The Earth (Drabble Series)
by Atheniandream
Summary: And Edited set of Drabbles originally posted on Tumblr. (Post 4x16 Not Just a pretty face)
1. The Earth

She wasn't just_ the world_ to him.

She was **The Earth**.

She was Gaia, the solid rock he stood on and knew himself from.

The place from which he prepared his battles and won countless victories.

But when the land was ripped beneath him by a quake of muddy circumstance, the untempered foundations crumbling down around him,

He faltered…for a time, before he learnt to stand alone.

Bent to swim through the oceans of his lonely recess into the clear blue of the fact,

That _soon_ he would reach land again, not so far off.

That the shore with it's glissening remembrance would beckon him and he would finally be ready and willing to walk on the land once more,

To feel it's steady weight and knowing measure of him relfected back with, _this time_, a newer understanding,

A renewed reverence for flame and fire and _the fight_.

It was only then that he could rest, in the calming notion,

That she would _always_ be his constant.

**_His Rock. _**

The Earth.


	2. The Moon

The Moon.

There was something _so_…removed about him now.

Like the Moon,

So soft in it's glow and yet so bold and untempered; if the sky around it chose to break apart and let it shine out into the night, following into morning for even just a moment,

The Moon still remained.

Regardless, and solitary and orbiting the Earth whilst chasing sharing in the dividens and responsibilties that the Sun gave fourth.

She had almost always looked too closely, and seldom from a distance.

From further away you couldn't quite see his imperfections, the surface details and battle scars on his heart.

_But they were there._ She knew first hand, _of course_.

He was the very pinnacle of untouchable.

Steely and shining and graceful.

_And he didn't belong to her anymore. _

He never really did.

Because the Moon...belongs to no one.


	3. The Sun

The Sun,

Is an Observer. A Mediator in the middle skies.

A watchful eye amongst the thieves and denisons,

The one who shines when moment is _just_ right.

Until then, she leans, and watches and observes.

Bathing only those who make the cut and show their worth and weight in gold.

_Only then_, does she grant them her own golden blessings.

The Sun is formidable in her quiet assumptions, based on knowing much about the world as it turns around her in uneven figures of eight.

**_The Sun_** holds _all the cards_.

Sees all the hearts that get broken,

Except for her own, little lost star.

A star, that she watches, knowing it has already burnt out,

Before she'd even had the chance to look it in the eye.


	4. The Jungle

His mind…**_is a Jungle._**

People who go in…_don't come out_.

More often than not he's already scared people away before they even deem to enter,

With his looming darkness and definite bite._ A bite from what_, you ask?

A Bite from everything.

Or Anything.**_ Choose your poison._**

If you're lucky, you'll reach water, if you're unlucky,_ you'll reach water. _

Or else, and worse still you could be tied up in rope and branches and the unslightly urge that swallows you whole, spits you out and then goes in for seconds.

Only bottom dwellers make the cut. Wrangle their way through, and trick the Jungle.

The Sun tries with all it's might and sometimes punches through the density of indifference,

**_The Moon_** doesn't even bother. Too fussy and calculated a move to even attempt a try.

The Earth, rising from underneath moves fluidly and carefully, nurturing the Jungle, step by step. Branch by branch.

Breeding it's fertility and power with it's positive hands.

But it _never _stays too long, and always stays wary of the deep darks.


	5. The Sky

The Sky is at odds with all that flows around it.

The Moon, The Sun. Even the Earth has taken to throwing shit up in the air just to see what sticks.

_It's tiresome._ And so hard to temper when the Sun and the Moon have that nessesity to eclipse him, and cover eachother as he muddles around the middle of them wondering what's what.

The thing is, the sky has no power. No real power. It makes the Moon look like the most important moment in a person's life. Gives way for the Sun to cherish itself out of the dark.

For all it knows and holds and gives life to with it's unyielding clarity, _**The Sky**_ is a mere audience to all that happens around it.

The North star is it's only real marker. The only path forward.

So he'll focus on that. And hopefully everything else will relax around them both in time.


	6. The North Star

The North star...is shining.

Brighter and bright each day. Glimmering with it's hope, it's fragility waning now in the thrumbing of it's acitvity.

It may be more than a whisper away.

But it's memory lingers. On all who meet it.

The North star...is the one to watch. The one focus on.

It tells the story of someone starting at the beginning. It dampens for the Sun but can't quite share the Sky just yet.

Especially when the Moon has it's hold.

The North Star, is consistant. A worker. Determined.

And ready to shin at will.


End file.
